


All my windows still are broken (but I'm standing on my feet)

by LibraryMage



Series: Superhero AU [6]
Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Ezra Bridger Needs a Hug, Father-Son Relationship, Found Family, Gen, Kidnapping, Rape Aftermath, Torture, Whumptober, heed the warnings at the beginning of the chapters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-04 17:22:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21201308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibraryMage/pseuds/LibraryMage
Summary: When Ezra is kidnapped by an old enemy of Kanan's, he tries to hide what really happened.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the first draft of this before Whumptober started, but as I was editing/rewriting, it kind of morphed into a Whumptober fic. Prompts are listed in the notes at the beginning of each chapter, as are the appropriate trigger warnings. Pay attention to those, because this fic is heavy. If there's any chapter or part of one that you don't feel comfortable reading, but want to know what happens, leave a comment on that chapter asking for a summary of it and I'll provide one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for Whumptober 2019 prompts alt#16 (bound), #18 (muffled scream), and #16 (pinned down)
> 
> WARNING: This chapter is about a sexual assault of a teenager by an adult. Most of it is not shown "on screen" beyond kissing, but it's not cryptic about what happened "off screen." If you don't want to read this, but you do want to read the comfort and fluff that comes afterward, just go ahead and skip to chapter two. If you want to know what happens in this chapter, leave a comment and I'll give you a brief summary.
> 
> Also warning for other kinds of torture and threat of death to a child.

Ezra groaned as something struck his face, but his head was already spinning so much that he barely registered the blow. A moment later, another hit came and he flinched, his eyes opening abruptly. When he saw who was crouched in front of him, one hand raised to hit him again, he gasped and choked as he realized he couldn’t draw in air past the rag stuffed into his mouth, held in place by a length of rope shoved between his teeth and tied tightly behind his head. He began drawing in short, sharp breaths through his nose as he tried to squirm across the floor away from his captor.

Nyla Kyral. The Seventh Sister. He’d thought she’d left the city, that she was gone for good.

Ezra’s heart hammered as a cold smile played across the Seventh Sister’s face when she saw that he was awake. She grabbed his arm, roughly pulling him off the floor and sitting him up against the wall. Ezra’s eyes darted around, trying to make sense of the situation. They were in a dark, cavernous place; a warehouse, by the look of it. His hands were bound tightly behind his back, the rope scraping against his skin as he tried to move. And he was alone with the Seventh Sister and three of her little robotic “pets.”

Ezra felt his heart begin to pick up speed as he shrank back against the wall. Kyral’s smile grew wider, as if she could sense his fear.

“Good to see you’re awake,” she said. “I was beginning to wonder if the dose was too high.”

The vague, hazy memory floated to the surface of Ezra’s mind. An arm around his chest in a crushing grip, a hand over his mouth, the sharp pain of a needle. She’d drugged him.

A quiet whimper escaped Ezra’s throat before he could stop it. If she had kidnapped him and allowed him to wake up rather than just killing him, her plans for him had to be brutal. Knowing her, she probably wanted to give him a slow and painful death.

The Seventh Sister laughed at the sound, her brown eyes seeming to spark with delight.

“Don’t worry, little one,” she said, her fingers trailing along his cheek, making him shudder violently. “This isn’t about you. Jarrus is the one I want. If you can be good, I might even let you go once this is over.”

Ezra didn’t believe that for a second. If she wanted to kill Kanan, she would kill him too, just to tie up the loose end.

Ezra yelped in surprise as one of the droids crawled down the wall and landed on his shoulder. Its pincers gripped him tightly before sending an electric shock coursing through him. He cried out, the sound muffled by the gag, as his back arched, his head snapping back and striking the wall.

“You were unconscious for two hours,” the Seventh Sister said as she got to her feet. “I doubt he’s even realized that you’re gone yet. He gives you such a long leash, after all.”

Ezra glared at her, bristling at the way she emphasized the word _leash_, as if she really meant it; as if she thought he was some kind of pet.

The bottom dropped out of Ezra’s stomach as she let out a soft chuckle. She smiled as she surveyed him, a dangerous look in her eye, like a wild cat about to pounce on its prey.

“I think we can have plenty of fun before he starts to worry,” she said.

The droid shocked him again. Ezra screamed as a current twice as strong as the last shot through him. He collapsed to the floor, shaking, tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. He struggled against the ropes binding his hands as the Seventh Sister took a step toward him, looming over him like a bird of prey about to swoop down and snap an unsuspecting animal’s neck.

Ezra tried to inch away from her, but the droid clinging to his shoulder delivered another small, quick shock before crawling off of his shoulder. He whimpered, his eyelids fluttering closed for a moment. He’d only been awake a few minutes and already he just wanted to slip back into unconsciousness. Kyral was right. It could be hours before Kanan realized that something had happened. Kanan gave Ezra his space. He didn’t hover, but for once in his life, Ezra found himself wishing that he did.

The Seventh Sister reached for Ezra and he shrank back, but he could do nothing to avoid it as she grabbed his arm and hauled him to his feet, shoving him back against the wall. Ezra’s breath came in short, sharp gasps through his nose as his heart hammered. His eyes darted around frantically, looking for any possible means of escape. But he was trapped, cornered against the wall on the opposite side of the room from the only exit that he could see.

Her hand tangled in his hair, wrenching his head to the side as her lips and tongue and teeth moved up his neck. As Ezra tried to wriggle out of her grasp, her other hand slid around his waist, pulling him close before sliding down until she was caressing the back of his thigh. Ezra struggled against her hold on him, his eyes growing wide as her fingers crept up his leg.

“No,” Ezra squeaked, the word swallowed by the gag in his mouth, coming out only as a terrified whimper. He struggled to wrap his mind around the fact that this was happening. It didn’t feel real. Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was a nightmare. Maybe –

Ezra cried out as her teeth sank into the skin where his neck met his shoulder. Her hand slid back around his waist, her fingers trailing under the waistband of his jeans until they began undoing the button at the front.

“No!” Ezra cried, the word coming out as a muffled shriek. He managed to pull away just far enough to bring his knee up, ramming it into her stomach.

She let out a furious, pained growl as she released him and stumbled backwards, one hand clutching at her stomach. Within seconds, she had recovered and launched herself at him, pinning him to the wall with her left hand over his throat as her right punched his stomach. Ezra barely had a chance to draw in a sharp gasp of air before the Seventh Sister pulled him away from the wall, throwing him to the floor and kicking him heavily in the side.

“The more you struggle, the more this will hurt,” she said as she loomed over him. One of her droids floated down and latched onto Ezra’s shoulder again, shocking him and drawing another strangled cry from him before crawling away.

“Then again,” the Seventh Sister said. “That just makes it more fun for me.”

She crouched over him, pinning his shoulders to the ground, crushing his hands painfully beneath his back. She leaned down over him, kissing his neck as she reached for his waistband again.

Ezra tried to scream _no_ again, twisting his hips and kicking wildly in an attempt to throw her off of him.

“Scream all you want,” she said. Her teeth nipped at his earlobe before her lips began tracing the line of his jaw. “It’s not like anyone can hear you.”

Tears stung at Ezra’s eyes as he felt her hand at his waist, opening his jeans and beginning to pull them down. A series of muffled screams erupted from his throat. He wasn’t even trying to form words anymore as he wordlessly begged her to stop. _Please no please stop fuck no please don’t do this please please **please**._

Ezra was practically choking on his tears when the Seventh Sister’s lips pulled away from his neck, her hands momentarily going still. For just a second, Ezra dared to hope that she’d had second thoughts, or that she had just been trying to scare him. Then she smiled, and Ezra’s heart turned to ice.

He shuddered as she slowly trailed her fingers down his face once again.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re cute when you cry?” she asked.

Ezra didn’t bother trying to choke back another sob.

* * *

Ezra had stopped crying for now. The tears came and went in between bouts of numbness where he couldn’t even bring himself to cry or scream. He wished she would just knock him out or drug him again. Anything to make this stop for even a few minutes. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment. Maybe he’d get lucky and pass out. She’d certainly hit him in the head enough times for it to happen.

He whimpered at the familiar feeling of small mechanical limbs scuttling across his chest as one of the Seventh Sister’s “pets” latched onto him, sinking its metal pincers into his shoulder and sending a powerful shock through his body. His eyes flew open as he screamed, thrashing as he tried to throw the droid off of him. The Seventh Sister was standing over him, laughing as she watched him writhing on the ground.

As the pain subsided, Ezra tried to drag himself backwards along the floor, away from her, but it was nearly impossible with his hands tied behind his back and his jeans tangled around his knees. He’d barely managed to move an inch before she pounced on him, one knee pressing into his chest, pinning him to the floor. Ezra pushed back against her, only to freeze as she drew her knife once more.

“I thought I told you not to try that again,” she said, holding the tip of the knife under Ezra’s chin, the blade just nicking his skin. “You know you won't get very far, anyway.”

Ezra held his breath, his eyes going wide as as she drew the blade down, grazing it across the skin of his neck. She brought it still lower, pulling up his shirt and letting the knife hover over his stomach.

Tears welled up in Ezra’s eyes once more. His heart hammered as he felt the knife begin to press against his stomach. He didn’t want to die. He just wanted to go home. He just wanted Kanan.

He whimpered as he felt the knife pierce his skin, a warm trickle of blood welling up around it. As she dragged the knife in a quick, short slash, he realized the wound didn’t feel deep. She was probably just cutting his skin. He lifted his head, trying to see what she was doing, only for her free had to close around his throat, slamming his head back against the floor.

Ezra cried out, but didn’t dare to struggle with the knife still pressed against his stomach.

A faint buzzing sound met Ezra’s ears and the knife was abruptly drawn away. He whimpered again as he realized where the sound was coming from.

The Seventh Sister smiled as she picked up Ezra’s phone from where she’d left it. Kanan had already texted Ezra four times, and she had delighted in reading each increasingly worried message out loud before ignoring them. She wanted to drag this out as long as possible.

“Ezra,” she said, reading Kanan’s latest attempt at contact. “We’re all really worried. Please just say something. If we could call the cops, we would by now.”

She lowered the phone, locking eyes with Ezra, still with that terrifying smile on her face.

“I think it’s about time we put his mind at ease, don’t you?” she asked.

She quickly typed out a reply. Seconds later, the phone was buzzing again. She answered it, putting it on speaker so Ezra could hear Kanan’s voice. And his fear.

“I was wondering how long it would take you to get that worried about him,” she said.

_“Where is Ezra?”_ Kanan asked, his voice holding more fury than Ezra ever remembered hearing in it.

“He’s right here with me,” the Seventh Sister said.

_“If you hurt him, I swear I’ll –”_

She cut him off with a harsh laugh.

“It’s a little late for that,” she said. “But if you want him to stay in one piece, you’ll come here alone. I assume you can track this signal?”

_“Yes,”_ Kanan said, biting out the word furiously.

“Good,” Seventh Sister said. “I won't give you a time limit, but just remember that every second you take to get here is another second your boy spends with me.”

_“Put him on the phone,”_ Kanan growled. _“I want to know he’s still alive.”_

The Seventh Sister reached down and pulled the gag from Ezra’s mouth. He coughed and gasped for air as she held the phone out toward him.

“K—Kanan,” Ezra said, barely remembering how to form words after so many hours unable to make a sound other than muffled screaming. “Don’t come. She’s going to kill you. Don’t –”

His words were abruptly cut off as the Seventh Sister shoved the rag back into his mouth, pushing the rope between his teeth again.

“Remember,” she said, “come alone. If I or my pets see one _hint _of someone else with you, I’ll slit the boy’s throat. Do you understand?”

_“Yes.”_

“Good,” the said with a smile. “Don’t keep him waiting too long.”

As she hung up the phone, she turned her gaze back to Ezra, her smile reminding him of a dog baring its teeth as it was about to attack.

“Now,” she said, her eyes boring into his as she trailed the knife down the outside of his right thigh, her free hand roughly grabbing his left. “Where were we?”

* * *

Ezra’s eyes widened, terror coursing through him as one of the droids floated toward them. It hovered nearby, letting out a series of sounds, apparently relaying a message to Kyral.

“Well,” she said, pulling her knife away from Ezra's skin, “it certainly took him long enough.”

Kanan. That had to be who she was talking about. Kanan was finally here. This was almost over.

The Seventh Sister grabbed Ezra’s jeans and pulled them back up to his waist. Ezra’s whole body was wracked with a heavy sob as her hands lingered for just a few seconds too long.

_Please just let it be over,_ he thought. _Please please **please** Kanan where are you?_

Tears slid down Ezra’s cheeks, making the rope against his skin itch, as the Seventh Sister pulled him up and shoved him onto his knees, facing the door. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to tell himself that it would be okay. Kanan was coming for him. He’d survive this. He would be okay.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for Whumptober 2019 prompts #2 (explosion), #14 (tear-stained), and #1 (shaky hands)
> 
> warning for: threat of death to a child; torture of a child; self-harm (scratching skin open); references to sexual assault; descriptions of injuries sustained during sexual assault and other torture

When Kanan entered the warehouse, the sight that greeted him made him feel like he’d been punched in the gut. Ezra was on his knees beside the Seventh Sister, shaking so much it looked like he could barely hold himself up. He was gagged, his hands bound behind his back, and what was visible of his skin was covered in bruises and cuts. One of the Seventh Sister’s droids was perched on his shoulder, its pincers clinging tightly to him.

Ezra’s eyes opened and sharp pain shot through Kanan’s chest as the kid stared up at him, sheer terror in his eyes. The pain only grew worse at the quiet keening noise he heard as the Seventh Sister grabbed Ezra’s hair, wrenching his head back and holding the tip of a knife under his chin.

“If you have any weapons, drop them,” she said, her eyes never leaving Kanan. “Now.”

She pressed the knife against Ezra’s skin as she said it, causing a few drops of blood to well up around the blade. Ezra whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut.

Kanan removed his own knife from where it was concealed in his boot and dropped it to the floor, kicking it away from him.

“You have what you want,” he said. “Now let him go.”

“But I don’t have what I want,” the Seventh Sister said with a grin. “Not yet. Not until you’re dead. After that…” she tightened her grip on Ezra’s hair, startling a muffled yelp out of him as his eyes snapped open again.

“You know our policy is to take children in alive,” she said.

The knot in Kanan’s chest loosened just a little as the Seventh Sister drew her knife away from Ezra’s throat. But any sense of relief he felt vanished as she beckoned to another one of her droids. It flew over to Kanan, a small needle jutting menacingly out of a port in its side as it circled him like a vulture. Ezra began shouting something Kanan couldn’t understand through the gag, his eyes going wide with terror. His muffled words were choked off by a scream as the droid that perched on his shoulder delivered a powerful shock through its pincers.

Kanan took a step toward Ezra, away from the droid that was circling him.

“I want to say goodbye to him,” Kanan said.

The Seventh Sister laughed, and Ezra shuddered at the sound.

“Alright,” she said, releasing Ezra and taking a slow step back. “I want to see this.”

Tears were trailing down Ezra’s cheeks as Kanan approached and knelt down in front of him, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Can you walk?” Kanan whispered, keeping his voice as quiet as he could. He didn’t even care what the answer was. He was prepared to carry Ezra out of here if he had to.

He could just barely hear Ezra’s muffled _mhm_ in response.

“Be ready,” Kanan said.

As Ezra nodded, Kanan reached into his pocket, his hand closing around the detonator. As he pressed down on the trigger, he pushed out with his mind and a glowing blue-white field surrounded him and Ezra. Kanan threw all of his strength behind it as the explosion rocked the ground beneath them.

“Come on!” Kanan said, grabbing Ezra’s arm and pulling him to his feet.

He pulled Ezra long beside him as they ran through the smoldering hole in the wall of the warehouse. They ran through the twisting maze of buildings, following the path Kanan had marked on his way to where Ezra was being held.

“Almost there!” Kanan said as a black van come into view ahead of them, one of its doors wide open, waiting.

Kanan shoved Ezra through the door first before jumping into the van and slamming the door shut.

“Go!” he called. The moment he spoke, Hera slammed down on the gas pedal and tore away from the complex.

“Were you followed?” she asked.

“Don’t think so,” Kanan said. “I think the blast knocked her out.”

As Hera wove through the streets in a random pattern meant to throw off anyone who might be tailing them, just in case, Kanan turned his attention back to Ezra. The sight of the kid’s condition made something clench tightly in his stomach. The bruises on his tear-stained face and the distant, glazed-over look in his eyes painted an all too clear picture of the torture he’d been enduring.

Ezra wasn’t moving. He was just staring blankly into the space in front of him, a fresh wave of tears welling up in his eyes as he whimpered quietly through the gag. Kanan quickly removed it, his throat growing tight as he threw the rope and the rag to the floor.

“It’s okay,” Kanan said. “You’re safe now.”

Kanan’s hands were shaking as he untied the ropes around Ezra’s wrists, wincing as he pulled them away and revealed the rope burns and bruises they’d been hiding. Ezra whimpered again as he moved his arms, pulling his hands in front of them.

“You remember your name?” Kanan asked.

Ezra’s mouth moved, but no sound came out. He squeezed his eyes shut, balling his hands into fists as he took a long, shaking breath.

“Ezra Bridger,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“What month is it?” Kanan asked.

“Au—August.”

“Okay,” Kanan said with a small sigh of relief. “You’re okay.”

Ezra said nothing, sliding down in the seat and resting his head on Kanan’s lap as tears continued to slide down his cheeks. Kanan gently ran a hand across his hair, trying to soothe Ezra as he shook.

“Which hospital is closest?” Kanan asked, glancing up at Hera. It would be a risk, but after what Ezra had gone through, it was a risk they were going to have to take.

“No!” Ezra cried, the sudden strength in his voice making Kanan jump.

“Please don’t take me to the hospital,” Ezra said, his voice breaking. “I just want to go home.”

“Ezra, you have to see a doctor,” Kanan said gently. “You were just –"

“I was just beaten half to death and they’ll probably think you did it!” Ezra cried. “Please, Kanan! I just want to go home!”

Ezra was no longer trying to hold back his tears as he began sobbing, clinging to Kanan as he wept.

“Please,” he said, the word barely audible through his tears. “Just take me home.”

Kanan glanced up at Hera again, their eyes briefly meeting in the rearview mirror. Without needing to say a word, they reached their decision.

“Alright,” Kanan said. “We’ll take you home.”

* * *

As they made their way to the front door, Ezra could feel Kanan walking right behind him, but the feeling was strange and almost cut off, as if there was a glass wall between him and his sense of where Kanan was. Once they were inside, it was like a switch was flipped. Ezra pulled away from Kanan and ran to the bathroom, locking the door behind him before leaning against it, hugging his arms around himself.

Ezra jumped and whimpered as he heard a soft knock at the door.

“Ezra,” Kanan called softly. “You probably have head trauma, and we don’t want you passing out alone in there. No one will come in unless we think something’s wrong, but just leave the door unlocked, okay?”

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Ezra knew that what Kanan was saying made sense. Slowly, with one shaking hand, he reached behind his back and unlocked the door.

“Thank you,” Kanan said.

“Please don’t come in,” Ezra said, his voice breaking. “I just – I need to –”

“I won't,” Kanan said. “No one will. I promise.”

Ezra stayed where he was for a moment, listening to the sound of Kanan’s footsteps fading down the hall. Once he was sure that Kanan was gone, Ezra began to strip off his clothes, throwing them to the floor and kicking them into the corner. Maybe he should just burn them.

His movements were almost robotic, as if he was controlling his body remotely, as he turned on the shower, stepping into it and making the water as hot as he could without it hurting too much. He scrubbed at his skin, digging his nails in until he drew blood as he tried to scratch away the feeling of her hands on him, the sound of her voice in his ear, the clinging feeling of dread and hopelessness that was filling him up and spilling out of him. The soap and his nails stung at the bite marks on his neck and his _thighs, why the fuck did she have to bite him there?!_ His bruises ached every time he pressed down on them and a sharp pain kept shooting through his left side whenever he moved his arm.

His hand froze, hovering over his stomach, over the marks she’d left there with her knife. Together, they almost looked like…he swallowed down a mouthful of bile as he realized that it _was_ a seven. _Her_ number, etched into his skin like she was signing her work.

He scrubbed furiously at the cuts, as if he could erase them from his skin, but all he succeeded in doing was making them start bleeding again.

When Ezra finally turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, he wrapped a towel tightly around himself so he didn’t have to see the bruises and cuts and those fucking _bite marks_ all over himself. He wasn’t sure when he’d stopped crying, but he felt tears stinging at his eyes again as he hugged his arms around his chest.

It felt too real now, and somehow at the same time, it didn’t feel real at all. Even as he felt the ghosts of her hands on his body, he still couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that she’d even kidnapped him in the first place, let alone…he couldn’t even think the word. It was too much, too real, too _scary_.

Ezra yelped at the sound of a knock on the door, instinctively pulling the towel tighter around himself as if whoever was on the other side could see him.

“Ezra?” Kanan called quietly.

“I—I’m okay,” Ezra said.

“I brought the first aid kit,” Kanan said.

Ezra opened the door, stepping back and half hiding behind it as Kanan entered the room and set the small box full of medical supplies on the sink. The sweatpants and old t-shirt Ezra wore to bed were folded neatly on top of it.

“Do you need any help?” Kanan asked.

“No,” Ezra said quickly, his shoulders jumping up toward his ears as he ducked his head, praying that Kanan wouldn’t look to closely at him.

“Alright,” Kanan said. “Just let me know if you do.”

As Kanan left the room, closing the door behind him, Ezra’s shoulders slumped. He stared blankly at the first aid kit for a moment, not wanting to open it. Treating his injuries meant acknowledging they were there. It meant he’d have to look at them again. It made it too real. But he needed to do it, if only because Kanan would worry if he didn’t.

Slowly, Ezra walked over to the sink and opened the box. He carefully applied antiseptic to the cuts and bite marks, hissing in pain as they stung before he bandaged them. He tried to avoid looking at the cuts on his stomach until the last possible moment, that bitter feeling welling up in his throat again as he cleaned and bandaged the wound. Finally, he took a small bottle of ibuprofen from the box and shook two pills out, swallowing them with a handful of water scooped from the sink.

He went through the motions of getting dressed as if he was on autopilot, barely feeling that sharp pain in his side as he pulled the t-shirt over his head. It had once been Kanan’s and was several sizes too big for him, and normally, wearing it made Ezra feel like he was surrounded by the man’s warm, comforting presence. But now it felt like nothing. _He_ felt like nothing, like there was a wall keeping him away from everything.

Ezra quietly slipped out of the room only to jump when he saw Kanan leaning against the wall, waiting for him. Ezra nervously reached up and tugged at the collar of his shirt, trying to cover the bite mark on his neck. Kanan motioned for Ezra to follow him and began to lead him down the hall. As they walked beside each other, Ezra noticed that Kanan’s hand, which would normally be on his shoulder, was at his side instead. Now that Ezra thought about it, he realized that Kanan had very deliberately not been touching him.

A tight knot formed in Ezra’s stomach and he tasted something bitter in the back of his throat. He wasn’t sure he’d even be okay with Kanan touching him right now, but the fact that he wasn’t even trying sent a dull ache spreading through Ezra’s chest. He couldn’t help but wonder if Kanan knew what had happened to him and was mad at him.

“You can sleep if you want,” Kanan said as they entered Ezra’s room, “but I’m going to wake you up every few hours, okay? I just want to be safe.”

Ezra nodded, sitting down on the edge of his bed. He hadn’t realized it until Kanan said it, but he was so tired that his eyelids were beginning to ache. He just wanted to go to sleep and forget that today had ever happened.

“If there are any signs of a concussion, I should take you to the hospital,” Kanan said.

“But --”

“I know you don’t want to go,” Kanan said. “And I’m sorry. I won't take you unless you really need it.”

“Fine,” Ezra muttered. He lay down and pulled his blankets up around him, just barely peering up at Kanan over the edge of the fabric.

“Do you need anything?” Kanan asked.

Ezra shook his head.

“I’ll be back to check on you in a few hours.”

Kanan flicked off the light and left the room, quietly shutting the door. Ezra curled up on his side, biting down on the back of his hand to muffle the sound as he began to cry.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for Whumptober 2019 prompt #29 (numb)
> 
> warning for: dissociation; references to sexual assault

When Ezra woke, he felt strange. It was like he was floating somewhere, halfway inside his body and halfway out of it. He lay on his back, not moving as he stared blankly up at the ceiling. He didn’t want to get up. He didn’t want to go back to sleep. He wasn't sure what he wanted, except to erase his memory of the past…24 hours?

He didn’t even know how long he’d been with her for.

Slowly, Ezra rolled onto his side, pulling his knees up to his chest and burrowing deeper under his blankets. Something was wrong. He should be _feeling_ something, shouldn’t he? He should be angry or crying or…_anything_. But the moment any emotion began to form, it would slip away like water from his hands.

He didn’t know how long he lay there, staring blankly into space, feeling nothing but the crushing emptiness where _something_ should have been. At long last, a sharp pang in his stomach jolted him part of the way back into his own body. Still, he lay there, trying to wrap his head around the feeling, unsure of what it was.

His stomach growled, and then it hit him. He was hungry. He wasn’t sure how long he’d slept, but based on the pain in his stomach, it had to be a long time.

Still, Ezra stayed where he was. He knew what that growling ache meant, but the thought of getting out of bed, of making his way to the kitchen, of potentially having to face the others made him want to hide under the blankets for the rest of the day. He didn’t know how to do it. He couldn’t think through the steps of something as simple as being in the same room as any of them.

It was another half hour before Ezra’s hunger finally won. He slowly sat up, glancing at his alarm clock as he did. It was almost 10:00 in the morning.

Ezra adjusted the collar of his shirt so it covered the marks on his neck before slipping through the door. He kept his head down, his gaze on the floor just in front of his feet as he trudged through the house. He could faintly hear voices, but he didn’t pay them any attention. He just needed to grab something to eat, maybe some water too, and then the could run back to his room and shut himself away.

He focused only on that, repeating those instructions to himself over and over in his head. He was so wrapped up in it that he didn’t realize the voices were growing louder until he had stopped in his tracks in the kitchen doorway, realizing that everyone else was in there.

Hera and Zeb were sitting at the table, Chopper twining around Hera’s ankles, making that soft mewling sound he always made when he wanted human food. Sabine was with Kanan at the counter beside the stove, throwing small handfuls of grated cheese into the eggs Kanan was scooping out onto everyone’s plates. It was like any other normal day where they’d all gotten a late start.

“Hey,” Sabine said, glancing back over her shoulder and spotting Ezra. “You’re up.”

Ezra nodded, his eyes darting around the room. He couldn’t think of what he should be doing right now.

“We didn’t really expect to see you,” Kanan said. “I was going to bring you some food in your room.”

He set a plate down on the table in front of an empty chair, and something clicked in Ezra’s mind. He walked over and sat down next to Zeb, picking up a fork and staring blankly down at the food.

“How are you feeling?” Hera asked. It was all Ezra could do not to shudder at the concern in her voice.

“I’m fine,” he said quietly, forcing himself to scoop up a forkful of eggs. They tasted like dust. Still, he swallowed them anyway. He knew he had to eat, even if it seemed almost impossible, if only because the others were there and they might worry that something was wrong if he didn’t.

“I can feel you staring,” he said, his eyes still fixed on the table. He couldn’t tell who it was who had their eyes fixed on him. For all he knew, maybe it was all of them. But either way, he knew _someone_ was watching him closely. His stomach twisted, tying itself into knots. What if they knew? What if they could just _tell_ somehow?

“Sorry,” Sabine said, sliding into a chair opposite Ezra’s as Kanan sat down next to him.

“We’re just worried about you is all,” Zeb said. “You sure you should be up and about yet?”

“It’s just cuts and bruises,” Ezra said. The words sounded strange, like he wasn’t really the one saying them. “I’m fine. Really.”

“It’s a little more than that,” Kanan said. Ezra’s heart skipped a beat, his eyes widening as his head snapped up, turning toward Kanan.

“How’s your head?” Kanan asked.

“Oh,” Ezra said, mentally sighing in relief. “It’s fine. Doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

“That’s good,” Kanan said, sounding almost like he was trying to be encouraging, though Ezra wasn’t sure what of.

“She just punched me a few times,” Ezra muttered, dropping his gaze back down to his plate. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“The kid’s probably had worse,” Zeb said, clapping Ezra on the shoulder much more gently than he normally would have.

“Yeah,” Ezra said, not quite able to force himself to smile when he tried. He knew what Zeb was doing, responding to him trying to convince them all that he was fine by acting like he thought Ezra was fine, too. It might even work. Zeb was certainly more convincing than Ezra could be right now.

* * *

Kanan had tried not to be obvious about the fact that he was keeping a close eye on Ezra, but he was sure that the kid noticed, anyway.

Ezra was trying so hard to act like everything was alright, like this was a normal morning. That in itself wasn’t unusual. Ezra had always tried to hide things from the rest of them when he thought they would worry. But he was usually better at it than this.

As he’d sat there, perched on the edge of his chair like he was preparing to bolt from the room at a moment’s notice, Ezra had held himself like he was on high alert and simultaneously about to crumble at any second. His muscles were far too tense, his gaze rarely leaving the corner of the table right in front of him, as if he was afraid to look away from it. If Ezra were a cat, Kanan was sure his back would have been arched, his ears pricked, and his tail sticking straight up.

Ezra’s movements seemed almost robotic as he stood up from the table, carrying his plate to the sink and rinsing it off. He was barely blinking, the look in his eyes distant as he stared down at the floor at his feet.

Oblivious to what was going on – or maybe not, Kanan could never quite tell – Chopper padded up to Ezra and twisted around his ankles, yowling quietly.

“I don’t have anything for you,” Ezra said, disentangling himself from the cat. “Go bother Zeb.”

“No, bother Hera,” Zeb said.

As Ezra tried to move away from the sink, Chopper gently clawed at his leg. Ezra stumbled, nearly tripping over Chopper. Kanan reached out, grabbing Ezra’s arm to stop him from falling.

“I’m okay,” Ezra muttered before Kanan could ask.

As Ezra looked down and nudged Chopper out of the way, Kanan caught sight of a mark at the base of the kid’s neck, halfway hidden under his shirt. A series of small red marks forming a ring around a faint bruise. Almost like he’d been…_bitten?_

“What’s that on your neck?” Kanan asked.

“N—nothing,” Ezra said, pulling away from Kanan and nearly falling over Chopper again.

“Careful,” Kanan said, catching Ezra’s arm. As soon as he did, Ezra pulled away, not just pushing Kanan’s hand back, but slapping his arm hard enough to hurt. For a moment, Kanan worried that he’d touched one of Ezra’s injuries by accident, until he saw that Ezra was cowering away from him, his eyes squeezed shut and jaw clenched, hyperventilating.

“Ezra,” Kanan said gently. He didn’t reach out toward the kid, but Ezra still flinched at the sound of his voice.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” Ezra shouted. He blindly lashed out, nearly hitting Kanan’s arm again as he lurched forward and bolted from the room. His footsteps pounded against the floor of the hallway until the loud _slam_ of a door echoed through the house.

A tense silence filled the room. Kanan looked up to see that the others were staring, not after Ezra, but at him. Without a word to any of them, he turned and followed Ezra’s path out of the room.

When he reached Ezra’s door, he knocked softly. The kid’s reply was so quiet that Kanan could barely hear his trembling voice through the wood.

“Leave me alone.”

“Ezra –”

“Go away!” Ezra shouted.

Kanan froze up, the kid’s words hitting him like a punch to the gut. Ezra had raised his voice with Kanan before, but never _screamed_ at him like this. For a moment, Kanan was at a loss for what to do.

Then he spoke, his voice just loud enough to carry into Ezra’s room.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Please come talk to me when you’re ready. You shouldn’t have to go through this alone.”

Ezra didn’t respond, but Kanan hadn’t expected him to. With that, Kanan turned away and walked back down the hall.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for Whumptober 2019 prompts #20 (trembling) and alt#2 (broken voice)
> 
> warning for: discussion of sexual assault; broken bones

No one had seen Ezra since the day before, when he’d run from the kitchen after hitting Kanan. The only sign of his continued presence in the house was soft footsteps sneaking down the hallway to the bathroom after everyone else had gone to bed. Sabine and Zeb had tried to get him to leave his room, only to give up when he wouldn’t say a word to them. After that, they all agreed that unless it was an emergency, they would let Ezra be until he was ready.

And so Kanan was surprised to see Ezra hovering in the kitchen door after only a day.

“Hey,” Kanan said. “You alright?”

“’m sorry,” Ezra muttered, staring down at the floor.

“It’s okay,” Kanan said. “I’m not hurt.”

Silence fell between them. Ezra kept his gaze fixed on the floor, twisting the hem of his shirt between his fingers. He was still wearing his pajamas, and Kanan doubted he’d changed out of them in the past two days.

“You ready to talk?” Kanan asked. “It’s okay if you’re not.”

“Not here,” Ezra said quietly.

“Your room?”

Ezra nodded.

Neither of them said a word as they made their way through the house to Ezra’s room. Only when the door was shut behind them did Kanan speak.

“Look,” Kanan said. “You don’t have to tell me anything that you don’t want to. I just want you to know that I’m here for you. That’s all.”

Ezra sat down on the edge of his bed, hugging his arms around himself and staring down at the floor rather than looking at Kanan. He remained silent, absently biting on his lower lip.

“_Is_ there something you want to tell me?” Kanan asked.

Ezra nodded, but still didn’t say anything. He closed his eyes for a moment, drawing in a long, shaking breath before opening them again.

“I – I wanted to – I thought you should know –”

His voice broke off, his eyes widening slightly. His hands tightened on his arms as he bit his lip again. Kanan’s stomach twisted in knots. The stammering, shaking voice he was hearing sounded almost nothing like Ezra.

“I –” Ezra’s voice broke again. He pressed his hands over his face, mumbling something Kanan couldn’t quite hear, but from the tone, he could guess that it was a brief string of curse words.

“It’s okay,” Kanan said, sitting down beside Ezra. “Take your time.”

“I –”

Ezra slammed his hands down on his knees as his voice broke off yet again. Kanan said nothing. He had never told anyone, not even Hera, the details of what had happened when he’d been tortured by the Inquisitors. If Ezra wasn’t ready to tell him anything, Kanan wasn’t going to rush him.

“She –” Ezra was trembling now as he tried to force the words out. “I – I was – she –”

“Would it be easier to write it down?” Kanan asked when Ezra’s voice broke off once more.

Ezra shook his head. He drew in another long, shaking breath, and Kanan could see him steeling himself, building his courage before he spoke, his voice so quiet Kanan could barely hear him.

“She – she raped me.”

Kanan felt like his mind was frozen. Only one thought could form in his head.

_How did I not notice?_

Ezra was his son, his responsibility, and Kanan had even realized that he’d been raped. The possibility had never even crossed his mind.

“Kanan?” Ezra said, his voice quiet. He was trembling even more as he sat there, waiting for Kanan to give him some kind of reaction.

The sound of Ezra’s voice jolted Kanan out of the frozen state his mind had been trapped in. His mind shot into overdrive as he scrambled to think of something to say.

“Ezra, I – I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice nearly failing him. It didn’t feel like enough, but he had to say _something_. He couldn’t just leave the kid hanging, waiting for him to think of the right thing.

Ezra flinched, letting out a heavy sob, then gasped, his hands flying to his left side.

“Ezra?”

“I’m okay,” Ezra said. He breathed heavily for a moment, squeezing his eyes shut, before slowly lowering his hands back down to his knees.

“Does it hurt when you breathe?” Kanan asked.

“A little,” Ezra said. “I think – I think maybe something’s broken.”

“Can I look?” Kanan asked. At Ezra’s hesitation, he quickly added “It’s okay to say no.”

Slowly, Ezra raised his shirt. For a moment, all Kanan could see were the bandages covering his stomach. Since Ezra had wanted to treat his own injuries, Kanan had had no idea that there were so many. He quickly turned his attention to what he was actually looking for. Dark, heavy bruises covered Ezra’s left side. That combined with Ezra’s pain told Kanan that something was almost definitely broken.

Ezra’s hands were shaking as he lowered his shirt again. He was still staring down at the floor, his shoulders raised like he was trying to shield himself from something. From _Kanan._

“Ezra,” Kanan said, “I know that couldn’t have been easy to tell me, and I am so, so sorry that I didn’t realize it on my own.”

Ezra shrugged, his hands absently fiddling with the hem of his shirt again.

“I promise I’m not going to tell anyone,” Kanan said.

“Thanks,” Ezra muttered. “I just – I don’t want anyone else to know yet.”

“That’s okay,” Kanan said. “You don’t have to tell anyone until you’re ready.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready,” Ezra said.

“That’s fine, too,” Kanan said. “You never have to tell anyone else if you don’t want to.”

Ezra hugged his arms around himself, his shoulders slumping. He seemed almost drained, as if this conversation had sapped the very life from him. And Kanan couldn’t blame him. Unfortunately, he still had one thing he needed to say, and he knew Ezra probably wouldn’t like it.

“Ezra,” Kanan said. “You need to see a doctor.”

Ezra head snapped up, his eyes going wide as he looked up at Kanan. A sharp pang shot through Kanan’s chest at the look in the kid’s eye. He looked almost betrayed.

“You probably have a broken rib,” Kanan said. “If it hurts to breathe, you should see a doctor.”

“I can't,” Ezra said, practically pleading with Kanan.

“You don’t have to tell them what happened,” Kanan said. “We can say you got into a fight with some other kids if you want, but we need to make sure that rib isn’t sticking toward your lung.”

“Fine,” Ezra muttered.

“There’s something else,” Kanan said. He knew Ezra was going to like this even less. “You should get tested.”

Ezra’s eyes widened slightly. Kanan suspected the idea hadn’t even occurred to him.

“You won't need to tell them what happened,” Kanan said. “You’re a teenager. They probably won't ask questions.”

“Fine,” Ezra said again, sounding like he was just resigning himself to what was happening at this point.

“I’m sorry,” Kanan said. “Just get dressed and we’ll get this over with as quickly as possible.”

Ezra nodded, that hollow, resigned look still in his eyes. Kanan felt the bitter sting of regret as he looked down at the kid. Ezra had come to him with this, and now Kanan was telling him he had to do something that terrified him.

As Kanan stepped out into the hallway to wait for Ezra, he looked down to see that his hands were shaking. He knew that if Ezra hadn’t wanted him to know, the kid would have done whatever he could to hide what had happened. But even knowing that, Kanan couldn’t help but feel like he should have noticed _something_.

As the door creaked open, Kanan shifted his focus to the kid who slipped out into the hallway, looking for all the world like he was trying to fade into the wall. This wasn’t about him. This was about Ezra. Kanan had already let him down twice now, first by putting him in the Inquisitors’ crosshairs, and then by not realizing what the Seventh Sister had done to him. He wasn’t going to fail his son a third time.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for Whumptober 2019 prompt #25 (humiliation)
> 
> warning for: references to animal death; broken bones; references to sexual assault

Ezra wanted to throw up.

The smell of industrial-strength cleaning products combined with the memory of the sympathetic look in the x-ray tech’s eyes and Ezra’s own nerves to create the most nauseating experience of Ezra’s life. And that was including the time he’d had to remove a several-days-dead cat from a place he’d been squatting in.

He shifted where he sat on the chair in the waiting room where he and Kanan had been told to wait after the x-ray. He was painfully aware of Kanan sitting beside him, trying to shield him from view of anyone else who might look at him.

“Ezra?”

He jumped at the sound of his name being called by a medical assistant. He stood up and walked quickly to the door that was being held open for him, trying to draw some tiny scrap of strength of Kanan’s presence beside him. The only reason he was even able to do this was because Kanan had promised to be with him the whole time.

They were led to a small exam room, where the assistant confirmed Ezra’s name – _his fake name, Ezra Jarrus_ – and birthdate before leaving the two of them alone in the room. A moment of tense, painful silence stretched out between them before Ezra broke it.

“I got in a fight,” Ezra said quietly, repeating the story he and Kanan had decided on when they were driving here. He wasn’t sure which of them he was trying to remind, or if he was just practicing the lie before he had to tell it.

“As long as you’re sure that’s what you want to tell them,” Kanan said.

Ezra nodded. Telling Kanan the truth had been painful enough, and Kanan was someone he knew for sure he could trust. He couldn't tell the real story again. Not now. Maybe not ever.

Ezra couldn’t stop himself from flinching as the door opened and the doctor entered the room.

“You’re Ezra?” he asked. Ezra nodded. “And who’s this?”

“M—my dad,” Ezra said.

“I’m Dr. Waver,” the man said. He crossed the room and turned on a view box on the wall, placing an x-ray film over it.

“Your eighth and ninth ribs on your left side are broken,” Dr. Waver said, pointing to the stark white image on the film, showing him the cracks in his bones.

Ezra just nodded absently, averting his eyes after just a few seconds.

“But the bones don’t seem to be in any danger of puncturing a lung,” the doctor said before briefly turning his attention to Kanan.

“If he has any trouble breathing or you see him cough up any blood, you should take him to the ER,” he said.

“I will,” Kanan said. Ezra bit back a groan, knowing there would be no arguing about this. Just because it made sense doesn’t mean he had to like it.

“How exactly did this happen?” Dr. Waver asked, eyeing the bruises on Ezra’s face.

Ezra tugged at the edges of his sleeves, painfully aware of the rope burns hidden beneath them. There was nothing he could do about the mark from the rope he’d been gagged with.

He opened his mouth to answer the doctor’s question, but he couldn’t make himself speak. His mind went blank, his face burning as a quiet squeak escaped his throat.

He suddenly felt like he was shrinking under the eyes of both Kanan and Dr. Waver. It was like they could see straight into his head, see everything that had happened. He didn’t want to be doing this. He just wanted to go home, to disappear, to erase this from his memory and from theirs.

“Do you want your dad to leave?” Dr. Waver asked.

“No,” Ezra said quickly. “He – he knows what happened. I – I just got in a fight.”

“A fight?” the doctor repeated. Ezra dropped his gaze to the floor, his throat going tight. He’d already gone over the story with Kanan on the way here, so _why_ was it so hard to say it now?

“Some other kids from our neighborhood,” Kanan said. “They’ve never gotten along.”

Ezra nodded. He might have been impressed by how easily Kanan was able to lie about this if he wasn’t too busy wanting to sink through the floor and disappear.

The doctor glanced down at the thin file he’d set down on the counter, quickly skimming through the information on it.

“And it says that you’re also here for routine STI testing?” he asked.

Ezra nodded, just glad that he hadn’t had to say it himself.

“We’ll need to take urine and blood samples, and then you can head home.”

Ezra squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, fighting not to cringe. At least this was almost over.

* * *

Ezra winced as he peeled off the bandage that covered the site where the doctor had taken blood from the crook of his elbow. It had stopped bleeding already, and it was something he could do to avoid having to look at Kanan, who kept glancing at him from the driver's seat.

The visit had been over quickly after they’d taken the samples. He’d been sent home with a prescription for hydrocodone for the pain in his ribs and a pamphlet about safe sex, both of which were now crumpled up in his hand.

“How are you feeling?” Kanan asked.

“Like I want to punch someone,” Ezra muttered, drawing his heels up onto the seat and hugging his arms around his knees as he angled himself so he was looking out the window, away from Kanan.

“I’m sorry,” Kanan said. “At least we know your ribs aren’t about to puncture a lung. And it’s over now. You never have to talk to anyone about this again if you don’t want to.”

“Good,” Ezra said. “I don’t.”

“And that’s fine. I just want you to tell me if you have any trouble breathing, alright?”

“I know,” Ezra said with a nod. “I will.”

“And if you ever _want_ to talk –”

“I don’t,” Ezra said again, his voice breaking.

“I know you don’t want to right now,” Kanan said. “And it’s fine if you never do. But if you ever want to, you can talk to me.”

Ezra’s face burned as he realized his jaw was trembling. He didn’t want to talk to Kanan about this. He just wanted to curl up under a blanket and forget that any of this had ever happened. He just wanted Kanan to somehow make everything okay, the way he always seemed to be able to.

But he wouldn’t this time. He couldn’t. No one could.

* * *

Dr. Waver hung up the phone, sighing slightly as he looked back down at the file in front of him. Ezra Jarrus, age sixteen, brought in by his father with a last-second appointment after a supposed fight.

He picked up a pen and jotted down a note in the file.

_Suspected child abuse. CPS contacted._


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for Whumptober 2019 prompts alt#10 (nightmare) and #31 (embrace)
> 
> warning for: discussion of sexual assault

Kanan hadn’t seen Ezra since they’d returned home. As soon as they’d walked through the door, the kid had retreated to his room, locking the door and hiding himself away from everyone else. Kanan didn’t try to talk him out of it. After what the kid had been through today, the least he deserved was some time to himself.

Taking a page from Ezra’s playbook, Kanan had shut himself away in the room he shared with Hera. He’d spent today focused solely on getting Ezra the medical attention he needed, and now he needed time to think. Time to fully wrap his head around what had happened.

The thought that cycled around over and over in the forefront of his mind was that _he should have known._ He hadn’t thought anything of the fact that Ezra had run to the bathroom to take a shower the moment they’d brought him home. Even after seeing what he now knew for certain was a bite mark on the kid’s neck, he hadn’t put the pieces together.

Kanan hadn’t wanted a drink this badly in a long time.

What the hell kind of father was he?

Kanan jumped as the door opened. Hera entered the room, looking a little surprised to see him at first, then sitting down on the edge of the bed beside him, sliding an arm around his shoulders.

“How is he?” she asked.

“A couple broken ribs,” Kanan said. He had promised Ezra he wouldn’t tell anyone else about the rape, and he intended to keep that promise unless the kid ever asked him to tell. “I’m picking up painkillers for him later. But he’ll be alright.”

“Physically,” Hera said, more to herself than to Kanan.

“Yeah,” Kanan muttered. “Physically.”

“Are you okay?” Hera asked.

Kanan couldn’t help but let out a harsh, humorless laugh.

“I’m not the one who spent twenty hours being –” he cut himself off, silently cursing himself. He’d almost said it, hadn’t he? He’d almost broken his promise without even thinking.

“Tortured,” he said quickly, praying Hera wouldn’t notice the half-second of hesitation as he’d caught himself just in time.

“That doesn’t mean you’re okay,” Hera said, clearly not about to let him worm his way out of this.

“No,” Kanan said. “I’m not.”

He rested his elbows on his knees and put his head in his hands, staring down at the floor. The image of Ezra on his knees, shaking, covered in bruises, that look of sheer terror in his eyes, was burned into Kanan’s mind.

“This was my fault,” he said quietly, barely aware that he was even speaking. “She did this to get to me.”

“Kanan –”

“Don’t,” Kanan said, cutting Hera off. He didn’t think he could handle her trying to convince him it wasn’t his fault. He was the one the Seventh Sister had been after. If she hadn’t seen Ezra as a way to hurt him, she never would have targeted the kid. He was the one whose slip-up had led to her discovering them in the first place. This never would have happened to Ezra if Kanan wasn’t part of his life.

They sat there in silence, Hera pressing herself against Kanan’s side as tears silently fell down his cheeks.

* * *

Kanan wasn’t sure what woke him up. He just knew that lying there with Hera at his back, curled up around him with an arm slung over his chest, he didn’t want to move from this spot anytime soon.

But an instinct in the back of his mind was nudging him to get up. More importantly, it was telling him to go check on Ezra.

After a moment of silent debate, wondering if he should just let the kid sleep, Kanan heard a dull _thump_ from the other side of the wall separating Ezra’s room from his and Hera’s.

Kanan sat up, easing Hera’s arm off of him slowly so he wouldn’t wake her before he slipped out of the room and made his way down the hall to Ezra’s room.

As Kanan stepped into the dark room, he heard a flurry of frantic movement and a quiet whimper. As he drew closer, Kanan saw that Ezra was still asleep, but he was thrashing around beneath his blankets as tears leaked from the corners of his eyes.

Kanan stopped in his tracks, staring down at Ezra as he tried to figure out how he could wake the kid without making this worse. He was suddenly painfully aware of just how vulnerable Ezra was right now, and how terrified he would probably be if Kanan just shook him awake.

“No,” Ezra gasped, his movements becoming even more frantic. A terrified yelp burst from his throat.

“Ezra,” Kanan said gently. “Ezra, wake up.”

But Ezra couldn’t hear him. He just kept thrashing on the bed, tears sliding down his cheeks, oblivious to Kanan’s presence.

* * *

_His legs kicked frantically, pure instinct driving his actions as he tried to throw her off of him._

There was a hand on him, shaking him.

_He was screaming behind the gag, tears streaming from his eyes as he practically choked on his own sobs._

Someone was beside him, leaning over him.

_This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. It wasn’t –_

Ezra screamed, swinging blindly at the figure next to him. His fist made contact with something hard, and there was a soft grunt of pain.

Ezra sat up, his eyes darting around as he drew in long, ragged breaths. He was home. He was in his room. He was safe.

Kanan was with him.

“It’s okay,” Kanan said, quickly drawing his hand away from Ezra’s shoulder as if he’d been burned. “You’re safe.”

Ezra said nothing. He just stared blankly at Kanan, a small lump forming in his throat when he saw that the man’s eyes held the reddish tinge of someone who’d been crying recently. Seeing it, Ezra felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. He’d never seen Kanan cry before.

“Kanan, I –” Ezra’s voice broke as his jaw began trembling. “I’m sorry.”

“This wasn’t your fault,” Kanan said.

Ezra looked away, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, staring blankly into the space in front of him. Without even looking, he could feel Kanan’s moment of hesitation before the man reached out and slid an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into a gentle hug. Tears welled up in Ezra’s eyes again as he was cradled against Kanan’s chest. He’d been so scared that Kanan didn’t _want_ to touch him anymore, that Kanan was mad at him or ashamed of him now.

“Is this okay?” Kanan asked.

Ezra nodded quickly, his heart skipping a beat at the thought that Kanan might pull away from him again.

“I –” before Ezra could say another word, he thought better of it and shut his mouth. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what Kanan would say if he knew the truth.

“Ezra,” Kanan said gently, “you can talk to me.”

Ezra nestled closer to Kanan’s chest, mentally weighing the potential consequences of telling Kanan what he’d meant to say.

“I – I couldn’t do anything,” Ezra said, his voice shaking. “It’s like I forgot I had powers. I just – I couldn’t –”

His voice died in his throat as he began sobbing into Kanan’s chest. Kanan’s arms tightened around him, holding him close.

“That doesn’t make it your fault,” Kanan said. “You froze up. That’s – it’s normal, Ezra. It’s okay.”

Something in Ezra’s chest grew painfully tight. Somehow, Kanan’s words only made him feel smaller, more helpless, more _useless_. He didn’t _care_ if it was normal to freeze up and not fight back. He only cared that, after everything he’d faced and everything he’d been through, _this_ had been the moment he hadn’t been able to do anything to stop it. All he’d done was scream. After a while, he’d barely even struggled anymore. He’d just cried and waited for it to be over, and then it _hadn’t_ been over.

It had felt like it was endless, like he would be trapped there with her forever and Kanan would never come for him. And he hadn’t been able to make himself do anything but scream.

“Hey,” Kanan said, his voice yanking Ezra out of his spiraling thoughts. “You’re safe now. And if you ever need to talk about this, I’m here for you. I –” his arms tightened around Ezra’s shoulders as his voice broke off, like he was trying not to cry again. “I’m so sorry, Ezra.”

Ezra still couldn’t get his voice to work. He just clung tightly to Kanan, sobbing into his chest.

“It’ll be okay,” Kanan said.

Ezra nodded. No matter how shattered he felt right now, he knew that at the very least, he could trust Kanan. Kanan was safety. Kanan was _home_. Kanan wasn’t mad at him, and Kanan didn’t blame him.

As long as he knew that, Ezra would be okay.


End file.
